


lifelines in the gaze of hell

by KicktheMatt



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23651638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KicktheMatt/pseuds/KicktheMatt
Summary: Victor looked up at her. “I never expected us to become drinking buddies again,” He said, nodding towards Kirsty’s tankard. “And I see your tolerance has since grown.”“What, is that a surprise to you?” She asked, leaning back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. “You should know better than that, Victor. I’ve had nothing but practice since we last drank.”She set her tankard down on the wooden table, sticky with the sugars of alcohol. Hops and barley filled her nose in the darkened room.“I must confess, it is a surprise. You were hardly able to keep up with me all that time ago.”Kirsty squinted at Victor, swirling her cup as she did. “Is that a challenge, soldier?”comm for tom-nook-is-an-ok-guy on Tumblr! uwu
Relationships: Kirsty/Victor
Kudos: 3





	lifelines in the gaze of hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tom-nook-is-an-ok-guy (Tumblr)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=tom-nook-is-an-ok-guy+%28Tumblr%29).



How strange, Kirsty thought, that they would drink like this once more.

A drink between comrades was a commonality in Sventila. To many, it was the very moment one went from “strangers” to “friends”. Tankards clashing together in dissonant harmony, the froth of beer pooling over the lips and spilling onto the joyous hands of those holding them. It was a rite of passage, a sign of respect to drink alongside another.

That day, in the woods, when Kirsty was approached by Noelle with a letter invitation to a rebellion, she knew she was shaking up the entire course of her life. For as long as she remembered, she was a soldier. And now, she was a rebel. Her, Noelle, Joachim. And Victor.

Sitting across from her, with a tankard in his own calloused hand, was the man himself. Hard as nails, headstrong. How strange, Kirsty thought, that she would toast with him once more.

The dim light of the room shined a warm orange glow over the group of comrades. Joachim sat beside Kirsty, his tankard pleasantly half-full. Noelle sat off to the side-- not quite in the fray, but close enough to be included. 

The commander took a swig from her cup, wiping the froth off of her lips with the back of her hand. “It’s been a while since we’ve drank like this,” She said, eyes shifted towards Victor, a coy smirk spreading across her face. “Who would’ve guessed it would happen again?”

Victor looked up at her. “I never expected us to become drinking buddies again,” He said, nodding towards Kirsty’s tankard. “And I see your tolerance has since grown.”

“What, is that a surprise to you?” She asked, leaning back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. “You should know better than that, Victor. I’ve had nothing but practice since we last drank.” 

She set her tankard down on the wooden table, sticky with the sugars of alcohol. Hops and barley filled her nose in the darkened room.

“I must confess, it is a surprise. You were hardly able to keep up with me all that time ago.”

Kirsty squinted at Victor, swirling her cup as she did. “Is that a challenge, soldier?” She asked, the tinges of her tone coated with playfulness. 

Victor smirked, tilting his cup at her for a moment. “It definitely can be. You were always one with a competitive streak.”

A small laugh passed through her lips. “Then you’re on, Victor.”  
She lifted her tankard from the table, throwing back the rest of the beer within it, then reached over and slammed the tankard into Joachim’s chest, a gesture for him to fill it. 

If her subordinate was winded, he sure didn’t make a show of it. “Commander, I hate to break it to you, but I think we’re fresh out of beer.”

“What do you mean, fresh out?” She asked, head whipping towards the soldier next to her.

“What I mean is that we’ve drained the barrel. With three of us at it, it hasn't taken very long,” He replied, taking the tankard into his hands.

Kirsty leaned back in her chair once more, a long exhale escaping her nose. “Well then, if this competition is to continue, we must go where the drinks are,” She said, standing, her chair scraping against the stone floor, echoes bouncing around the air for a second. Kirsty placed her hands on the table-- a challenging stance. “If you care to carry on, I’m sure a tavern or two will have plenty for us to drink.”

“Sounds like a date,” Victor commented, pushing out his chair to stand. “Lead the way, Kirsty. Know that I won’t lose.”

“Ha! As if,” She replied, staring her challenger head-on. She stepped away from the table, turning back towards Joachim. “You’re dismissed, soldier. I can handle this one all on my own.”

“You too, Noelle. Please, stay here. There is no need to follow us.”

Seeing his superior, and her ex-superior, walking through the door, Joachim felt like he should go on and follow her. Just in case.

However, even if he had a pretty damn sturdy tolerance, he couldn’t keep up to these two monsters. He instead decided to sit down for a bit and collect himself, before he went out to search for a non-alcoholic drink and a bite to eat. He wasn’t looking to trouble anyone with a hangover tomorrow-- especially not his hangover boss. 

His vision began to fill with turns and tribbles. Was everything usually this hazy when he drank?

“J-Joachim? Are you okay?” Noelle’s timid voice piped up from her chair, looking over at her comrade with concern. 

“I’m fine, Noelle. I just…” A sudden attack of nausea hit the man, who doubled over the table, leaving a very worried friend to run over and pat his back through his dizzy, drunken spell.

~*~

“-and you can all go STRAIGHT TO A FIEND’S MAW, YOU HEAR ME, YOU WEAK PANSIES!” Kirsty shouted, at the end of a much more profanity laden rant, before she closed the door of the bar in a hurry, making a chair break itself against the entrance, rather than her face.

That being taken care of, she went on after her drinking buddy, both of them somewhat tipsy by now, after emptying most of a tavern or two’s supply, and getting into a bit of a fight at the end of their run-in with the second establishment.

The night was cold, still, with some bits of snow still lingering upon the ground. Spring had yet to properly come. But for them, as Sventilans, it was very comfortable weather, to say the least.

Victor was doing his best to keep his cool, as always, but drunken steps and laughter slipped through his lips as he walked, still holding a bottle of wine they got from the bar; he was just slightly ahead of Kirsty, who, truthfully, was in pretty much the same state.

At last, they stopped by a fountain, snow dusting the concrete in the moonlit night. Clumsily, Victor sat on it, with Kirsty plopping beside him. The alcohol still dragged forth chuckles from them both, as each of them took another sip of the wine, soft touches of their fingers passing the bottle between them.

Tired, and yet full of energy, Kirsty laid her head on the man’s shoulder, giddiness and comfort evident in her every move. Slowly, as they calmed down somewhat, she said, “It is weird, isn’t it? For us to be this close in this way, Victor.”

“I’ll say. Hearing you call me something other than sir is something I’m still getting used to.” With that, he got a not-so-weak punch from his friend, bringing out an ouch and more laughter. 

Quietly, they watched the night go on in front of them, cold and caring, as the stars and the moon were the only thing to watch over them. 

They wouldn’t do this, back in the army. Nor would they, as enemies.

For all the political mess they were in, the ups and the downs, the anger and the strife-- this was a new leaf. The beginnings of something wonderful, better than either of them could possibly imagine.

War-torn hands held one another and the deep purple glass of the bottle, as lifelines in the gaze of hell.

**Author's Note:**

> hiya pals, check out my Tumblr and Twitter pls if you'd like something written!
> 
> Tumblr: @wormprint  
> Twitter: @wormprint
> 
> uwu,,


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